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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814834">softness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadpelle/pseuds/chadpelle'>chadpelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mayhem (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Kissing, M/M, yeah I don't know how to title it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:00:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>479</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadpelle/pseuds/chadpelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"You wander around to find me whenever you want affection," Pelle reminds. "Like a little cat."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Euronymous | Øystein Aarseth/Dead | Per Yngve Ohlin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>softness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The dryer's soft buzz and occasional, metallic turning is the only sound in the room. Pelle finds it lulling to sit on the laundry room floor, leaning against the running machine and reading, the pattern of the noise comforting and not loud enough to overwhelm his senses. With the curtains drawn, the room is dim and warmly lit and pleasantly stimulant deprived.</p><p>Until Øystein's heavy footfalls begin down the hallway, at least. Pelle doesn't mind the interruption, but also doesn't exactly care for being interrupted in general.</p><p>When the footsteps stop, Øystein appears in the doorway — leaning on it, of course, the classic bad boy pose he thinks suits him <em>so</em> well.</p><p>"You look half asleep," he greets.</p><p>Pelle looks up to him, making a face. "I always am."</p><p>"Of course," he says. "Are you busy?"</p><p>"No," he says, despite his prior ponderings of how nice it is to be alone. The itch for interaction was returning, slowly but surely, and comes in full force now that Øystein is in front of him.</p><p>Øystein offers a hand to help him stand up. Pelle has never quite gotten used to how strong his grip is, and nearly falls into him. Or, rather, <em>onto</em> him — his near half of a foot advantage over the other man wouldn't have boded well for either of them. Still, Øystein guides him back until the shorter man can place his hands on either side of Pelle on the drier.</p><p>"Hello?" Pelle says curiously, looking down at him, earning a soft smile.</p><p>"Hello," Øystein replies, leaning up to kiss him.</p><p>Pelle cups his face, leaning down to make it easier on him. Øystein takes it as eagerness, returning the gentle force. He can't say he minds it, pressing his lips to Øystein's forehead when they break away.</p><p>"Did you just want attention?" Pelle asks rather bluntly, stroking Øystein's cheeks with his thumbs.</p><p>The skin warms under his touch. "I'm not that needy," he says, but doesn't deny it.</p><p>"Mm," Pelle chuckles. "I don't know about that."</p><p>"Oh, yes?"</p><p>"You wander around to find me whenever you want affection," he reminds. "Like a little cat."</p><p>Øystein doesn't have a response — flustered by being figured out, Pelle supposes. In truth, he finds it sweet; Øystein is secretive about his deeper feelings, if he even has as many as he <em>does</em> talk about, but his nonverbal cues are often as plain as day. At least to Pelle, who has grown accustomed to each and every one of them.</p><p>He catches him in another kiss, slow and sweet. He isn't tired, but is certainly lethargic and the usual fervency that their kisses devolve into is far beyond him now. Øystein senses that and slows himself accordingly, a subtle thing that Pelle has always appreciated. When things are too fast, Øystein is the first person besides himself to notice and act.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>for every underline under HATE in the drawing where Pelle wrote I HATE CATS, I will compare Øystein to a cat another time.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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